


here comes a thought

by crossroadswrite



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Anxious Katsuki Yuuri, Canon Compliant, Established Relationship, Future Fic, Hurt Katsuki Yuuri, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, POV Alternating, Retirement, but like smol angsty big happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-15
Updated: 2019-09-15
Packaged: 2020-10-19 00:29:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20648237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crossroadswrite/pseuds/crossroadswrite
Summary: Yuuri dreams about his last competition a lot. How could he not when it changed his life so viscerally.In his dreams, it’s always falling. It’s never hitting the ground, because Yuuri knows what happens when he hits the ground – torn ACL, mild concussion and a nasty bruise on his head that had lasted for weeks. It’s never the pain he’s afraid of in his dreams, Yuuri’s well used to pain.It’s the act of falling, thepromiseof pain and failure. It’s what falling means. It haunts Yuuri, even now when the bruise on his head is completely gone and his knee is slowly healing.(Or: Yuuri struggles with being forced into retirement by an injury, Victor struggles with getting Yuuri to talk about it, and they still love each other through all of it.)





	here comes a thought

**Author's Note:**

  * For [opemjamjar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/opemjamjar/gifts).

> First and foremost, and as always, the biggest bigeest warmest thank you to my beta, LadyDrace for taking time out of her day to look this over for me! I would perish without her!
> 
> Secondly! This was written for the Victuuri Summer Loving Exchange and ahhh it was a lot of fun, the biggest thank you to the mods for keeping the event running so smoothly!
> 
> I tried to go with two of my prompts for this which were post-canon hurt/comfort and older/aged-up victuuri. I hope I could do them well, and I hope this is enjoyable! 
> 
> I sort of touched on the concept of Yuuri getting injured close to the end of his career but being able to do a comeback on one of my short ficlets for Yuuri Week, and since then I wanted to try writing something a little bit longer about it where Yuuri didn't get a chance to go for one last season and has to deal with retiring earlier than he wanted. I hope I could do that in a way that's believable for him and for where Victor and him are in their relationship.
> 
> The title was taken from 'Here Comes a Thought' from the Steven Universe soundtrack. I made a playlist for this fic to get me in the mood to write, [you can listen to it here](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6nBigp6sCCpf7IxXGSK9Bz)!
> 
> I hope I could write something that is at least somewhat enjoyable for my giftee to read! Thank you so much for your promtps! 💖

Growing up, Victor had been enchanted with his mothers’ relationship. He’d dreamed of falling in love like they did, of being devoted to someone in that all-encompassing way, and seeing that devotion mirrored back at him.

Victor’s mothers raised him to have ridiculously high expectations for romance. He had grown up clinging to every single word of dating advice that his mother doled out, no matter how ridiculous they sounded. He never forgot them, even when he grew disenchanted with life, and lost hope that he would get to be in love like that.

_Never date someone who isn’t a fun drunk, Vitya_, she would say.

_Sometimes the best thing you can give someone is yourself,_ she would say.

_If they can’t tango and aren’t willing to learn, you don’t need them_, she would say.

_Marry someone who carries you home when you’re sloppy drunk,_ she would say.

_The best way to woo someone is by taking off your shirt, works every time_, she would say.

_There’s nothing in a relationship that a cruise vacation can’t fix_, she would say.

Victor is well into his thirties, and he knows better than to listen blindly to his mother’s advice. He knows better, but at this point, he’s desperate.

“Well, what do you think?” he asks Yuuri, closing their cabin’s door behind him.

Victor had booked the suite, mostly because he wanted to see if Yuuri would try to stop him. He usually does. Even after years of being together, Yuuri’s resistant to allow himself unnecessary luxuries.

Usually, they plan their vacations together. _Usually_, they sit down on their oversized bed in their apartment in St. Petersburg, a laptop between them, looking at tourist trap websites and _PLACES YOU CAN’T MISS!_ articles, pointing at what they would like to visit. They make an itinerary of the local restaurants, because eating together brings them both so much joy. They book their hotel together and Victor usually tries to get them the honeymoon suite and Yuuri will haggle him down to a less expensive room with a fond expression.

Usually, Victor loves planning their vacations.

“It looks nice,” Yuuri says, with only the faintest attempt of putting some cheerful inflection into his tone.

This time around, Yuuri hadn’t contributed much, no matter how hard Victor tried to reel him into planning. He’d just say, “Whatever you want, Vitya,” and leave it at that.

In all honesty, when Victor had suggested a cruise, he’d expected Yuuri to say no. He’d _wanted_ Yuuri to say no, because that would have been a stronger reaction than the ones he’s been getting for almost two months now.

Yuuri is a strong-willed, sometimes bull-headed person, and Victor loves that about him, but lately, all he’s been getting from him is _Of course, Vitya_. _Sounds good, Vitya. Whatever you want, Vitya_ in an apathetic tone that tries to sound interested but fails by an inch or two.

It’s frustrating beyond measure, and Victor’s lost count of how many times he’s tried to get Yuuri to talk about it only to be met with a resounding, _I’m fine_.

Yuuri is, quite frankly, terrible at pretending he’s fine. And Victor has no idea what to do with him when he’s like this. Breakdowns he can deal with, panic attacks he can deal with, bouts of anger he can deal with. _This_? This disinterest? He has no idea what to do with it.

It guts him, receiving such lukewarm responses from Yuuri, and, sometimes, Victor just wants to grab him by the shoulders and _shake him_ until he reacts. But Victor doesn’t, because no matter how much this hurts him, he knows it’s hurting Yuuri more. He knows Yuuri’s mind can be a viciously self-harming thing, he knows that sometimes all he can do is wait for Yuuri to work it out, and then deal with the fallout.

It’s painful, seeing Yuuri like this, because he knows Yuuri is hurting but won’t let Victor ease away some of that hurt.

Victor presses his lips together and feels something sour settle in the back of his throat.

“We have access to an exclusive restaurant,” he says, still cheery, as he rolls his suitcase next to the dresser in the room. “I hear the chef is famous. We should rest before it’s time for dinner.”

And, usually, Yuuri would come over and cuddle close to Victor, wrap his arms around his waist, press his face to his shoulder and sigh out, tired of the ordeal of travelling and checking in, and he would say, “Can’t we order in?” And Victor would say, “Of course, darling,” because he always does when Yuuri asks for something that he can give him.

Now, Yuuri says, “Sure, sounds good,” and sits on the plush bed, rubbing at his knee.

“We could order in,” Victor tries.

“Whatever you want to do, Vitya,” Yuuri says.

Victor swallows the sigh that builds up in his throat, and turns to put his clothes in the dresser.

«»

Yuuri’s mentally preparing for having to face a dining hall full of loud people when there’s a knock on the door of their cabin.

“I’ll get it,” Victor says, rushing to the door before Yuuri can try to.

He watches as Victor politely thanks whoever is at the other side of the door, before he pulls a food cart with several trays on it into the room, and gently closes the door after it.

“I thought a dinner in might be better,” Victor says, rolling the cart further into the room, and Yuuri immediately feels something in his shoulders unwind, some of the building anxiety disappearing.

“Oh,” is what Yuuri says, and even if he feels immensely relieved, even if this is what he wanted, he feels terrible because he knows Victor is doing this for him, regardless of what _he_ wants. “We could’ve gone out.”

Victor stares at him, and blinks as if confused. “Do you want to go out?”

“I want whatever you want,” Yuuri rushes to clarify. “If you want to go out, we could go out, you don’t have to stay here because of me.”

Victor keeps staring, and then he sighs, and rolls the cart closer to the small circular dining table set on one side of the room. He starts putting the dishes on top of it.

“What I _want_,” he says slowly, as he arranges their food, “is to have dinner with my beautiful husband, and enjoy his company for a little while. That’s what I want. Whether we do it here or at the restaurant doesn’t matter to me.” And with this he pulls one of the chairs back and looks expectantly at Yuuri.

Yuuri feels like crying a little bit.

God, he doesn’t deserve him. He doesn’t deserve anything Victor does for him, he doesn’t deserve how much Victor loves him. Yuuri is trying so hard to, and he still thinks he falls short. So he goes and sits at the table and eats dinner with Victor, listening attentively to him ramble about every single available activity to do on the cruise and his plans for tomorrow.

Yuuri can’t bring himself to be excited, and he hates it. He feels like he’s betraying Victor for not being excited, but there’s been a slow roiling pit of snakes in the bottom of his stomach for months now, growing and growing and growing, and Yuuri has no idea how to make it stop.

All he can make himself do is listen, and agree mindlessly to whatever Victor wants to do.

«»

Yuuri wakes up to the jarring sensation of falling, body covered in sweat as the leftover nightmare clings to him.

He looks around the room in a panic feeling lost for a second when he doesn’t immediately recognize his surroundings, before his mind gets its bearings and he remembers he’s on a cruise ship with Victor.

The cabin is lit up with the morning sun filtering through the big glass window. Booking a luxury suite has the perk of it being located on one of the upper floors of the ship, with plenty of sunlight filtering in.

Victor isn’t laying by his side, but Yuuri can hear the shower running in the small bathroom they have in the room, and that settles him.

He sits up in bed, and leans back against the headboard, letting his eyes close and his head thunk against the wall behind him as he tries to catch his breath.

He dreams about his last competition a lot. How could he not when it changed his life so viscerally.

In his dreams, it’s always falling. It’s never hitting the ground, because Yuuri knows what happens when he hits the ground – torn ACL, mild concussion and a nasty bruise on his head that had lasted for weeks. It’s never the pain he’s afraid of, Yuuri’s well used to pain.

It’s the act of falling, the promise of pain and failure. It’s what falling _means_. It haunts Yuuri, even now when the bruise on his head is completely gone and his knee is slowly healing.

Yuuri always thought he would retire in a blaze of glory, and only when he was ready for it like Victor had. He knew, intellectually, that the possibility of injury was always there, but Yuuri had never had a serious injury during his entire career, and the reality of it had always seemed distant, like it wasn’t something that could happen to him.

And now here he is, forced into retirement earlier than he predicted.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty,” Victor greets, and Yuuri almost jumps out of his skin. Victor snorts a little laugh, but then he gets closer to Yuuri and his laugh turns into a frown. “Everything okay?”

_No._

“Yes,” Yuuri says, still feeling like his heart is beating a mile a minute. “I need a shower.” He kicks his legs off the bed, wincing a little bit when he puts weight on his bad knee, and limps his way to the bathroom before Victor can ask any more questions.

«»

Victor knows how hard it is for Yuuri to adjust to a new setting, so he decides to spend their full first day on board relaxing in the indoor pool and solarium.

They settle on two pool recliners, and Victor takes off his shirt as soon as he’s set his things down.

Yuuri just leans back against his recliner and takes out his handheld console.

Victor presses his lips together and sets a hand on his hip. There go his plans for getting Yuuri in the pool with him and maybe coaxing him into having some fun.

“_Yuuri_,” he singsongs, grabbing the sunscreen and waving it at Yuuri. “Won’t you put some sun lotion on me?”

Yuuri’s lips curl at the corners, in the lightest hint of a smile, but Victor feels like cheering at the sight of it.

He sits in between Yuuri’s thighs, straddling the recliner, and passes over the bottle.

This is a true and tried ritual for them. Victor doesn’t tan, he burns, and as soon as Yuuri had learned this, he’d become overzealous in applying sunscreen to Victor.

It settles him. It settles both of them, Victor thinks. Even if he can’t see Yuuri’s expression right now, the movements of Yuuri’s hands on his back are steady and sure, just as practiced and full of care as they’ve always been.

It’s such a small moment, but it feels like a touching stone, something that’s still the same when they’re threading new territory.

Yuuri lingers, and Victor stays as still as he possibly can, unwilling to let go of this just yet.

“Turn around,” Yuuri says, and Victor dutifully does.

Yuuri dots sunscreen on Victor’s cheeks and forehead, on the tip of his nose, before he slowly rubs it in, thumbs stroking over the curve of Victor’s cheekbone, the slope of his nose, the plane of his forehead, until everything is covered.

When he’s done he holds Victor’s face in his palms and looks at him with an unbearably fond expression that makes Victor want to melt, even if he’s seen that exact expression so many times since they’ve been together that he’s had more than enough time to get used to it. And then, for no apparent reason, Yuuri’s eyes turn sad and he drops his hands, leaving Victor feeling cold and bereft.

“Yuuri,” he starts.

“You should put sunscreen on the rest of your body,” Yuuri says, wiping his hands on a towel and looking away. “You know how easily you get sunburned.”

“Yuuri,” Victor tries again.

“I’ll join you in the pool in a bit, I really want to get through this boss battle first,” Yuuri says and grabs for his handheld console.

Victor presses his lips together, but doesn’t say anything. They _need_ to talk, but Victor isn’t about to back Yuuri into a corner in such a public space.

“Okay,” he says, and wonders if he sounds as tired as he feels.

He wishes Yuuri would talk to him. He can see that there’s something wrong, he can practically feel the bad thoughts that have been festering in Yuuri’s mind for the last months, and he’s scared. He knows how Yuuri can spiral, knows how he can convince himself he’s doing the best for Victor and convincing himself that something as awful as removing himself from Victor’s life would be best for both of them.

_Let’s end this_.

Victor can feel something like that coming, and he’s terrified he won’t be able to walk Yuuri backwards from the ledge he pushed himself to.

“Okay,” he repeats, and tries to sound a little more cheerful. “Join me soon, I get lonely without you,” he says in such a way that Yuuri understand he doesn’t just mean joining him in the pool.

Then he gets up and goes to swim some laps to try to clear his head and figure out a way to get Yuuri to talk without seeming like he’s backing him into a corner, and making him go on the defensive.

«»

Yuuri glances at Victor ever so often over the top of his console. No matter how much time passes, he doesn’t think he’ll ever get tired of looking at him. Even with the swirling pit of self-doubt and anxiety that has taken residence in his stomach, and the growing certainty that Yuuri doesn’t deserve him, he still finds it hard to take his eyes off of him.

Victor swims laps around the pool for a bit, and Yuuri loses to his boss battle miserably because he keeps getting distracted by him. He only manages to defeat the boss when Victor abandons the pool and heads for the little bar set up on one side of the solarium.

The victory music plays, and Yuuri looks up from his console, feeling a small rush of exhilaration at having succeeded, eyes immediately searching for Victor like he’s acquired some sort of Pavlovian response to success, and now associates it with Victor.

Victor’s talking to an older couple, smiling, and Yuuri’s reminded of how much Victor loves people. How he can easily make conversation everywhere they go, and how he legitimately enjoys hearing stories from strangers whenever he gets the chance.

And then, before Yuuri can stop the thought, he becomes jarringly aware how very awkward he is around people, how he can’t hold a conversation with a stranger to save his life. Yuuri’s on his way to being thirty-one, and he’s still socially inept.

Victor turns to him, as if he can sense him looking, and waves at him. Yuuri waves back, a little slower than Victor had, and watches him gesture towards him. The couple Victor is talking to turns at him and waves politely.

Yuuri waves back, and wonders how lacking he must seem compared to Victor, how short he falls from expectations.

He breathes out, a shaking tremulous thing, and turns back to his game.

«»

Their cruise is seven days long, and, on the second day, they explore the ship.

Technically, the cruise is supposed to be a nine day affair, but they’re taking advantage of the fact that one of the stops is Fukuoka to head to Hasetsu. It’s been a while since they visited Yuuri’s parents, and they have to start looking for houses to buy for when they move there.

If it weren’t for how well Yuuri and Yuri did in competition when they got to practice with and against each other, they probably would’ve moved back to Hasetsu sooner. With Yuuri retiring from competition, and Victor having no interest in taking over for Yakov, there’s really no point in them staying in St. Petersburg, not when they both adore Hasetsu so much.

“Look,” Victor says, making Yuuri look up from where he’s been trying to fold a towel into a rose. They’ve stumbled into a towel folding class, and Victor _adores _it. “It’s Makkachin!” Victor turns his own folded towel carefully towards Yuuri. 

Yuuri stares down at it for a solid second before he scrambles for his phone and starts taking pictures from different angles.

“That’s so cute,” he says with a soft smile, and Victor feels himself melting. “I’m sending these to Mari so she can show Makka.”

Victor laughs, proud and delighted.

There’s always something happening around the cruise, and before dinner time they’ve managed to stumble into a theater production of Hairspray, a diving show in the pool deck, a casino, _and_ the overpriced gift shop where they lost at least two hours picking out gifts for their family back in Hasetsu.

Victor has been trying to keep them busy enough that Yuuri doesn’t have a chance to overthink, since he still refuses to have talk about whatever it is that has been swirling around his head for the past few months.

Victor knows Yuuri too well to believe it’s working, though. The deep, concentrated look on Yuuri’s face, the little frown creasing his eyebrows, and the way he always takes a second too long to answer are dead giveaways.

They’re making their way to one of the onboard restaurants, Victor trying to fill their walk with chatter as he looks up the menu from his phone, trying to engage Yuuri into conversation to keep his attention on the _here and now_ and not wherever it runs off to.

They’ve been together for years, and navigating Yuuri’s anxiety is still a challenge. Victor doesn’t think it’ll ever stop being a challenge, but it’s one he’ll gladly sign up for, again and again and again, until Yuuri’s brain quiets and he lets himself believe that he deserves everything in this world.

Victor is about to ask what Yuuri thinks of a particular dish when Yuuri stops dead in his tracks, eyes focused on something to their left. Victor frowns, and follows his gaze.

_Ah_, he thinks, _fuck_.

“I didn’t know there was an ice rink on board,” Yuuri says, and there’s something in his tone that sounds accusatory.

“They do ice shows and open it to the public, I think,” Victor says. “It was in the brochure I showed you, wasn’t it?”

Yuuri presses his lips together. Victor can see how his jaw clenches. “Right,” he says tonelessly. “Do you want to go in?”

“No?” Victor says, thrown enough by the words that he tilts his answer into a question. “Aren’t we going to dinner now?”

“You don’t need to stop doing things just because _I_ can’t do them,” Yuuri says, and he sounds annoyed.

Victor does not want this to develop into a situation. There’s no need for this to develop into a situation, especially considering there are a number of people walking around them.

“Yuuri, darling, _why_ would I want to go skating on a cruise ship when I can do that anywhere?”

“I’m just saying, if you wanted to-“

“But I don’t want to. I want to go have dinner with you.”

“Fine, let’s go to dinner,” Yuuri says, and Victor has a feeling they were having two different conversations and that he’s missed something in translation.

“Do _you_ want to go in?” he asks.

“… No,” Yuuri says, and it sounds a bit like a lie, but Victor knows that calling Yuuri out on it would be completely ineffective, and would only work to make him more withdrawn and defensive.

Victor wants to pinch the bridge of his nose to stop the headache he feels coming.

“Okay,” he says, “let’s go to dinner then.”

He hopes that they can talk about this over dinner. They don’t. Yuuri changes the subject whenever Victor tries to bring it up, so their dinner passes in stilted conversation interspaced by tense silences.

Victor has every intention of doing something after dinner. He orders a drink from the bar and gets out his phone to see what kind of evening activities the cruise offers.

He’s just taken his first sip when Yuuri says, “I’m tired, I’m heading back to the room.”

Which isn’t really what Victor had planned, but if Yuuri is tired, he’s not going to force him into anything.

“Alright, let me finish my drink and we’ll head back.”

“No, that’s okay, I can go alone. Finish your drink,” he says, and hesitates for a second before he kisses Victor on the cheek and leaves.

Victor feels lonely watching Yuuri walk away, but he also feels tired.

He loves Yuuri. He loves Yuuri in the same all-encompassing way he’s always dreamed of loving someone, and he’ll love him through anything, until his very last breath. But sometimes- sometimes he gets tired.

Sometimes he doesn’t know how to deal with something Yuuri throws at him, doesn’t know how to deal with a new bout of anxiety, and he feels tired and useless. He feels like he’s failing him, like he’s betraying him for feeling like this.

Victor’s tired. It’s been months of this. He doesn’t think he’s gotten a chance to stop and breathe since Yuuri took off on that jump only to slam down hard on the ice. That image has been permanently imprinted into his eyelids ever since it happened and Victor doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to erase it. There was nothing more terrifying than watching Yuuri fall and not get back up again.

He breathes out and slowly sips his drink, before he follows after Yuuri.

He couldn’t have taken more than ten minutes at the bar, but when he gets to their room all the lights are turned off and Yuuri’s in bed.

«»

The next day, they dock in Vladivostok, one of their two stops before they reach Fukuoka.

Victor had an entire day planned, but with how tense they left things yesterday, he’s not sure Yuuri would be up to it.

They’ve had a quiet breakfast in one of the bars on board, and Victor is trying to figure out what to do now, when Yuuri says, “What time are we leaving?”

“Hm?”

“You had tickets for the aquarium, right?” Yuuri asks

“I… did,” Victor says slowly, perking up. He wasn’t sure if Yuuri had been listening to him when he had talked about their itinerary. It makes something in him settle, knowing that he had.

“So, what time?”

Victor checks the time on his phone. They won’t have time for the full tour he had planned, but if they hurry, they might still be able to hit a couple of the famous landmarks before they go to the aquarium.

“Right now,” Victor says, and gets up from the table, pulling Yuuri’s chair back for him.

Yuuri huffs a little amused laugh, and follows.

«»

They visit the Primorsky aquarium in the afternoon, after Victor has taken Yuuri out for lunch in an unbelievably expensive restaurant and after they’ve had a long stroll around the city’s tourist hubs.

It’s a beautiful place. Yuuri always finds that there’s something a bit magical and soothing about aquariums.

They walk through the different exhibits slowly, taking their time to take everything in. They don’t talk much aside from calling the other to look at something new and beautiful. There’s a tension between them that has been building and building, and it leaves Yuuri feeling like he just swallowed lead, something unpleasant and heavy in the pit of his stomach.

Yuuri knows it’s his fault. The more he tries to stop being a burden for Victor, the more of a burden he seems to become and it tears him apart because Victor doesn’t deserve that. Victor doesn’t deserve any of this, he doesn’t deserve Yuuri’s self-doubt, Yuuri’s anxiety, Yuuri’s uselessness.

Yuuri loves him. He loves him so much his chest feels close to bursting with it sometimes, he loves him so much that some nights he can’t sleep thinking about it, he loves him so much he can’t _breathe_ with it. And it’s not enough.

All of Yuuri’s love doesn’t make up for how difficult he is to deal with, it doesn’t make up for the things Victor had to give up for Yuuri, it doesn’t make up for how much pain Yuuri’s caused him.

Victor isn’t a crying sort of person. Yuuri can count the times he’s seen Victor cry, and every single one of those times it was Yuuri that had caused it.

It’s worse now that he’s retired, because before he had skating- _they_ had skating. Yuuri could translate all of his love on the ice and really show it to Victor, he could win him medals, he could _make him proud_. And now he’s retired, and what does he have to offer? What can he give Victor that _matters_?

Yuuri has been a skater for most of his life. He doesn’t know how to stop being one. Even when he decided to retire after Nationals, after Sochi, he couldn’t commit to the decision for more than a couple of weeks. That’s how long it had taken before he was back on the ice, skating Victor’s routine, and wondering how he could compete again.

What is Yuuri good for, if not skating? What can he _do_?

Victor had made retiring look so easy.

Victor had retired like he’d been waiting to do it for years, he’d retired like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

Yuuri still remembers him saying, “Now I can dedicate myself to my real passion: loving you!” and it had been a joke at the time, but also not.

Victor is more than content with just loving Yuuri, he’s said it over and over again, and it makes guilt churn in the bottom of Yuuri’s stomach. Because why can’t he be content with this? Why can’t he be content with just loving Victor, even when he feels so inadequate and inept to stand by his side, and _ah_, that’s the thing isn’t it?

Yuuri can’t feel content when he feels like he’s cheating Victor out of something, because Victor deserves better. Victor deserves someone who he doesn’t have to _deal with_, he deserves someone who doesn’t go on anxiety spirals.

Here’s the bottom line: without skating, Yuuri has nothing to give Victor. He could pool all his love in-between his hands and pour it over Victor until there’s nothing left, and it wouldn’t be enough, because Victor deserves so much more than what Yuuri has to offer.

Yuuri glances over at Victor as they go through the aquarium tunnel, fish swimming around and above them, and he’s so beautiful, Yuuri’s heart aches with it a little.

Yuuri watches him for a little bit, watches the sharp line of his jaw as he looks up at the fish swimming above them, his eyes tracking them as the water casts light and shadow on his face. He can’t really help but want to stand closer, so he does and grabs for Victor’s hand. It says a lot about how long they’ve been together, how used to the gesture Victor is that he links their fingers together without missing a beat.

Victor looks down at him, the laugh lines in the corner of his eyes becoming a little more pronounced as he smiles, and Yuuri, almost as if by muscle memory alone, leans up a little and kisses him. Just a chaste press of lips together that he doesn’t even fully realize he’s leaning up for until he’s pulling back.

Victor is looking down at him in awe, eyes wide in amazement and surprise.

“What?” Yuuri asks.

“Nothing,” Victor says, and smiles softly, “You just haven’t kissed me in a while, that’s all.”

There’s no accusation behind the words, no hurt, just pleasant surprise and fondness, but it shakes Yuuri to his core, it makes something rusted over and unpleasant hook in his gut and pull painfully.

He thinks for a second that it can’t be true, because surely, _surely_ he’s kissed Victor plenty, he always does, he always has, and _surely_ he didn’t stop.

Except when he tries to recollect the last time he kissed him, his mind draws a blank. He can’t remember it, and that more than anything is terrifying. That more than anything makes guilt curl tight in his stomach until he feels like throwing up.

He looks down at the floor, unable to look at Victor’s loving face any longer, and he would have let go of Victor’s hand, if Victor’s grip hadn’t tightened when Yuuri’s had become looser.

Yuuri can’t comprehend how Victor still tolerates him, how he can stand by his side when Yuuri has been so wrapped up in himself he can’t even remember the last time he kissed him. Victor deserves to be with someone better.

Something in his mind clicks, and it feels a lot like finding the glaring exit door after going around and around in an anxiety-fuelled loop.

“Victor,” Yuuri says, looking back up.

“Hm?” Victor says, looking over at him, still fond and pleased.

Yuuri opens his mouth, grip on Victor’s hand going completely lax as he means to step away.

Victor’s eyes flick through his expression, and his grip on Yuuri’s hand tightens.

_Let’s end this_, is on the tip of Yuuri’s tongue, _you deserve better than me_.

“_Yuuri_,” Victor says, grip becoming bruising on Yuuri’s hand and making him wince, making him startle. “Yuuri, don’t do this, don’t look at me like that,” Victor says, and there’s something in his voice that sounds begging and desperate. His eyes are wide and terrified and he takes Yuuri’s other hand in his, willing him to listen.

Yuuri blinks, and realizes the full impact of what he was about to do. Then he starts shaking because oh no, _oh no_.

“Ah,” he lets out, shaky and broken. “No, I’m sorry. I don’t- I’m sorry, oh god, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean it, I don’t mean it, oh god, Vitya.” He can feel his heartbeat picking up and drops his head.

This is familiar too. Yuuri breaking down in front of Victor, and Victor looping his arms around him and holding him tight against his chest, Yuuri fisting his hands into the fabric of Victor’s shirt, smudging it with tears.

“I’m awful,” Yuuri sobs, because how could he even think that? How could he even _think_ that?

He almost did something irrevocably awful, almost hurt Victor in a irreparable way, because he got too caught up with himself. _Again_. How does he keep finding himself here? When he knows with the gut deep certainty that comes with years of devotion and adoration that they are fitted for each other, that they could be content without each other, sure, but at this point losing the other would be like having part of their soul severed from them.

“You’re not awful,” Victor says, because he will love Yuuri through anything, and tolerate way too much from him, and Yuuri still doesn’t deserve him, not acting like this.

The mere thought of losing Victor makes him sick to his stomach, makes panic bubble up in him so dizzyingly fast he thinks that if it weren’t for Victor holding him together he would’ve drowned in it.

“I am, I am, I am, I’m so sorry, Vitya. I love you, I’m so sorry.”

Yuuri does not deserve Victor, and Victor deserves better from him, Victor deserves everything from him. Yuuri has never contented himself with being second rate, so why did he just settle for being a mediocre husband, inattentive to Victor’s needs, a burden, when he can be so much better, when he can _do_ so much better by him?

Yuuri became an Olympian under Victor’s hands, he can become anything else he wants, he can and will do anything for Victor. Yuuri does not deserve Victor right now but he _will_. He will, because the alternative is too horrible to even consider.

“You’re not horrible, you’re just having a rough time,” Victor says, and his voice sounds wet, like he’s about to cry too. He’s holding Yuuri so tightly it’s grinding his bones together but it’s good, it’s what Yuuri needs right now.

“So are you,” Yuuri says, and it speaks volumes that Victor doesn’t rush to deny it. Victor can’t really lie to him, and Yuuri is thankful for it. He’s thankful for the honesty. “I’ll do better,” he promises against Victor’s neck. “I’ll do _better_.”

“You don’t need to do anything,” Victor says, whisper soft. “Just stay by my side. That’s all I’ve ever wanted from you.”

_Ah_, Yuuri thinks_, I’m an idiot_. And then really starts crying into Victor’s shoulder, big fat tears that have been building up for months and he can’t really stop now.

They stay like that for a while, taking up space in the middle of an aquarium until Yuuri’s all out of tears and an employee comes checking on them.

Yuuri feels like he’s been standing unaware at the edge of a cliff for a long time and someone just forcefully yanked him back, making him stumble to his knees and realize how close he had been to falling. He still feels worthless, he still feels like he doesn’t deserve Victor, he still feels lost without skating to fall back on, but now that he knows how close he was standing to the edge, he can start backing away by his own foot and, hopefully, start walking towards something better.

«»

Yuuri talks to him when they get back to their room on the cruise ship. Actually talks, stilted and scared, as he lays besides Victor on the bed, their hands interlocked, and his forehead pressed against Victor’s shoulder, because sometimes it’s easier to talk if you don’t have to look at the person you’re talking to.

Victor listens and feels his heart break a little bit with how much Yuuri has been suffering these past months, with all the fear and self-doubt that had viciously taken a hold of him and that he had kept to himself for fear of becoming a burden to Victor. It makes Victor’s grip tighten on his hand.

He feels like crying a little bit hearing it, not just because of the confirmation of how much Yuuri had been dealing with, but also because he’s finally, _finally_ talking to him. There’s no words to describe how relieved Victor is, especially after Yuuri had given him a look that was so like the one he had given him in Barcelona that Victor had felt the bottom of his stomach fall.

But they’re okay. They’re always okay, in the end, because they’re both so committed to each other they will weather anything together, and that gives Victor hope for the future.

«»

Victor wakes up early in the morning, and intends to get up to go take a shower and start his day, but a hand wraps around his arm and tugs him back down.

“Stay?” Yuuri mumbles sleepily, one eye squinted open and looking at him, the rest of his face smooshed against the pillow.

The warmth and happiness that surges through Victor almost makes him dizzy.

He lays back down and cuddles up to Yuuri, lets him snuggle close to his chest, even though it’s too warm in their room for it to be completely comfortable.

They sleep away the rest of the morning.

«»

Yuuri isn’t a clingy person by nature, except when it comes to Victor. Usually, Victor loves to cling and Yuuri loves to indulge him.

The day after his breakdown, Yuuri is the one clinging, keeping him close to reassure himself that they’re good and that he hasn’t irrevocably messed anything up.

They go swimming in the afternoon, and Yuuri spends a solid twenty minutes rubbing sunscreen into Victor’s back. They lose another twenty minutes when Victor returns the favour.

Yuuri hasn’t been swimming in a while. The last time they came down to the solarium, he hadn’t so much as dipped his toes in the water. It’s nice, and he wishes he could swim laps around the pool, but he still doesn’t have full range in his knee, so he just lets Victor pull him around the pool.

They run into the older couple Victor had been talking to again, and Victor formally introduces him. Yuuri still feels a little lacking standing next to him. Feelings like that don’t disappear overnight, but he manages to stand straight and politely greet them.

“They’re big fans of yours!” Victor says, pride dripping from his words.

“Ah, if it isn’t too much trouble, do you think we could get a picture?” one of the women asks, and that’s just… well, okay.

He looks at Victor, feeling a little confused and lost. Victor just beams.

“Um, sure?” he says, uncertainly.

Some pictures and a little too much praise being poured on Yuuri later, they part ways.

“I didn’t expect anyone to still recognize me,” he says.

Victor stares at him. “Darling, you ratified a new quad, and medaled at the Olympics. Twice.”

“Ah, right.”

«»

They have dinner at one of the restaurants that has live music playing, and it feels so much like they’ve gotten back to their normal routine that something settles in Victor’s chest. He knows that there’s still a lot to unpack, but for now he feels settled.

“Do you want to dance?” Yuuri asks.

“You can’t dance, Yuuri,” Victor says, without really thinking about it and immediately wants to snatch the words back. He looks at Yuuri worriedly, fearing he’s messed something up.

Yuuri frowns and pauses for a second, like he’s working through something and then he says, “I can sway.”

Victor feels himself unwind and melt. “I’d love to sway with you,” he says, and so they do. Victor makes sure Yuuri doesn’t have to stand on his bad knee for too long, taking most of his weight.

It’s one of the loveliest nights they’ve had in a while, it feels like sinking back into themselves, and Victor kisses Yuuri’s temple softly.

Yuuri turns his face up to him and kisses him just as softly.

Victor will weather through anything for Yuuri, because he knows at the end of the day, they’ll still have each other, they’ll still love each other like they always have.

«»

They have one more stop before they reach Fukuoka.

Maizuru is beautiful in spring, but it’s fall now, and the cherry blossoms aren’t flowering. Victor had planned to visit the main tourist spots, but Yuuri asks if they can just go to a good ramen shop, and of course Victor indulges him, beyond happy that Yuuri is asking for things again, and not just going with whatever Victor wants to do.

They don’t have as much time here as they did in Vladivostok, and tomorrow, they’ll be docking in Fukuoka, and then taking the train to Hasetsu.

Yuuri orders a single bowl of ramen that would fit in his in-season diet plan, and when Victor gently reminds him he doesn’t need to do that anymore, his eyes light up and he polishes two more bowls of ramen, loaded with so many carbs it would have made their nutrionist faint.

Victor is overjoyed to see Yuuri this enthusiastic about something, and Victor loses more time looking at him eat than eating, letting his own food go cold.

He hopes he can see more of that type of face going forward. He wants to see Yuuri fall in love with all the little things not skating brings, the same way Victor did when he got himself on a plane and flew to Hasetsu for the very first time.

«»

They go to a temple before they return to the ship and Yuuri wants to write down one of his prayers.

He feels an overwhelming need to change, to get out of the umbrella of negative emotions he’s been standing under for so long.

So he grabs a pen and he writes down, _I want to love Victor without reservations and be someone worthy of his love, _and hangs his wish up.

“You already are, you know?” Victor tells him, peering at his wish from over his shoulder.

Yuuri doesn’t agree, so he doesn’t say anything, just links his hand with Victor’s and asks, “Ready to go?”

Victor looks like, he’s going to say something for a moment, but then seems to swallow it down. He nods, and squeezes Yuuri’s hand.

“Ready.”

«»

They arrive in Fukuoka the next day, and have to rush to catch the train, so they can arrive at the inn before dinner.

The train to Hasetsu is still as bumpy as it ever was, screeching horribly as it stops at every station along the way, but there’s something incredibly comfortable about it.

The afternoon sun filters through the train’s windows, and the closer they get to Hasetsu, the emptier the train becomes.

Yuuri sits beside Victor, head resting on his shoulder as he watches the scenery go by. Hasetsu used to mean stagnation and defeat for Yuuri, and now it means home and solidity, commitment, rest.

He was dreading going there when they first departed, and now he’s eager to get there. Eager to see his family and the inn, eager to take his clothes out of his bag and put them away in the same dresser he’s been using since he was a child, now dragged into the banquet hall that was made Victor and Yuuri’s permanent room at the inn.

The future stretches ahead, and instead of a gaping maw full of teeth, ready to bite down, instead of bleak defeat, Yuuri is starting to see just how much there is for him to look forward to.

He still doesn’t know what he wants to do with it. Maybe he’ll teach in Minako’s studio, maybe he’ll take up choreographing like Victor had, maybe he’ll help out at the inn, or maybe he’ll do none of those things.

There’s only one thing he’d like to do now that he’s retired.

He brings Victor’s hand up, towards his mouth and kisses his ring, “We should get married again,” he says, so very quietly, like it’s a secret.

Victor doesn’t answer immediately, and when Yuuri turns his head to look for his reaction, he’s looking at Yuuri in awe, he’s looking at Yuuri like Yuuri just did something wonderful and unexpected, he’s looking at him like he’s always looked at him.

He tilts his head up just as Victor leans down and kisses, soft and sweet and short, before he pulls back and whispers, “Please,” against his mouth as an answer.

Yuuri smiles, and feels it taking up his whole face.

The future stretches in front of him, and Yuuri has no idea what to do with it or with himself, but he has Victor by his side, and at the end of the day, that’s the only thing he needs.

**Author's Note:**

> *sprinkles angst on a fic with a little flair; immediately overturns one galon of fluff and hopefulness on top* ah yes, perfecto
> 
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